Through Glazed Eyes
by AwkwardBookAddict
Summary: "He stalked closer to her, making her whole body flat against the wall, "Look at him!" He yelled, his hot breath hitting her face due to their close proximity. He unraveled the blankets just enough for her to see what lay inside it. Her breath hitched and her control over her tears disappeared. She could feel bile rising to her throat, but she tried to push it down."


**I do not own Harry Potter - sadly - or the Harry Potter universe. All rights go to J.K Rowling,. I do, however, own these ideas and so I ask you not to steal them or at least ask and give credit.**

 **Thank you.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Through Glazed Eyes_

"Ron, I'm home."

Hermione entered her flat, expecting to hear the welcoming sounds of her husband coming to greet her, but she was met with nothing.

She should be used to this by now. Ever since… what happened; Ron hadn't been as he was when they first got married. She guessed it hadn't really sunk in that nothing would be the same.

But maybe he hadn't heard her…

He could be in their room, listening to some music or doing work. So she tried again, "Ron? Are you there?" again, no answer.

Maybe he wasn't home…

That thought left her mind when she could hear soft cooing coming from the living room. She passed the kitchen, and peered into the small room, which mainly consisted of a soft brown couch and a few adjacent plush chairs. She saw Ron sitting on the chair that was facing away from her, and he was rocking back and forth, talking softly to… something.

She cautiously maneuvered around the chair, trying not to make much noise, and got a better look at her husband.

What she saw should have made her worry, but she had become used to the sight. Ron was sitting on the chair with a bundle of light blue blankets cradled in his arms – like he was holding a baby – and speaking soft words to it.

"Ron, put the blankets down." She said firmly.

He didn't even look up, he merely shushed her, "Quiet, 'Mione, you'll wake him."

Her voice began to shudder, "Ron, those are just blankets. Put them down."

"How can you say that about our child?" He said softly, caressing the fabrics. "Look at what we could've had," his eyes finally met hers, and his gaze was murderous, "if you hadn't ruined it."

Tears started to form in her eyes, but she didn't let any fall, "I'm going to tell you this one last time: Put. The. Blankets. Down." She emphasised, her voice cracking slightly.

"Look at our child, 'Mione." He said, rising from the chair. "Look at the baby you murder!" He yelled, his voice gaining sound with every passing word. His eyes were bloodshot and insane, moving frantically from the bundle to blankets to his wife. He stalked towards her as she moved away, eventually hitting a wall.

Hermione couldn't escape, and Ron was too far gone to reason with. She had dealt with him like this before, but this time, it was different. He usually snapped out of it after a few minutes, said he was sorry, and that he wouldn't do it again, and she'd believe him… until the next night when it happened again. But this time, he wasn't snapping out of it. His glare was stronger than it ever was, and it honestly scared her.

Ron wasn't Ron when he was in this state; he wasn't the goofball she fell in love with, he was more… psychotic. If she were a doctor at St. Mungo's she'd probably diagnose him as a mild psychopath, but she didn't have that authority. Even if Ron agreed to go get himself checked out, they would just say that he had PTSD and be done with it, but she knew it was deeper than that. The Ron she married would never talk to her like this, scare her like this, and… hurt her like this.

Something is different this time. He's too committed to this act and the bundle looks… too real… as if there is actually a baby inside of them. Her heart sped up at that thought. Who knows what he was capable of in this state?

He stalked closer to her, making her whole body flat against the wall, "Look at him!" He yelled, his hot breath hitting her face due to their close proximity. He unraveled the blankets just enough for her to see what lay inside it.

Her breath hitched and her control over her tears disappeared. She could feel bile rising to her throat, but she tried to push it down. The sight was ungodly. "Ron…" She said quietly, her voice breaking, "that's not a baby," she forced out, trying to control herself from breaking down, "that's Crookshanks." She chocked on the vomit that was threatening to leave her mouth. "You killed Crookshanks." She said louder, looking him in the eye.

Though her vision was blurred from the tears, she could see realization flood to his face. He looked down at the blankets and horror struck in his eyes. Ron dropped the bundle and backed away from it, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You killed Crookshanks!" Hermione screamed in disgust. Ron had tears in his eyes, and wouldn't even look at Hermione.

"Hermione… I'm… I'm _sorry_." He choked out.

Hermione ignored him, and turned her attention back to her cat. He lay motionless on the floor, covered only slightly in the blue baby blankets, with his head twisted in an unnatural fashion. Crookshanks' eyes were still wide open, fear evident in them. Her heart shattered all over again when she realised that he died in fear.

She used her middle and index fingers to close his eyes, giving the illusion that he was at peace, and covered him back up in the blankets. Hermione picked Crookshanks up off the floor and cradled him in her arms, whilst averting her eyes away from Ron.

She began to leave the flat, trying her hardest to ignore the hysterical weeping sounds coming from the living room.

* * *

When Hermione returned, her hands were covered in dirt and the sweat that was dripping from her brow was mixed with the few tears she allowed to fall.

Ron was still sitting on the couch, his face burrowed in his hands as his elbows digging into his knees. Occasionally, he would let out a strained sob, but Hermione just stood there, watching him as if he were just an image; as if he wasn't real.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, but loud enough for it to reach her ears.

She stood there, not even blinking as he raised his head to look at her. She scanned his face, taking note of the numerous scratch marks that lay upon it. "I know." She choked out, her throat sore and scratchy.

Her comment seemed to soften his features a bit. He was relieved.

"But that doesn't change anything." She added, finally moving from her spot near the front door. She began to walk towards her room, ignoring the rushing footsteps of Ron behind her.

"What are you doing?" He asked urgently.

Hermione took out her wand and began pointing it at drawers, which then opened swiftly as clothes flew out and into a bag placed on the bed.

It took Ron a few moments before he realised what she was doing. He quickly ran up to her, trying to wrestle the wand out of her hand. In an effort to dislodge the wand, he slammed Hermione into the dresser, causing her to cry out in pain and loosen her grip.

Ron grabbed the wand out of her hand and threw it across the room; effectively having it hit the opposing wall. "You're not leaving." He yelled at her, his spit hitting her face as a sharp pain ran up her spine from the impact of the dresser.

"I have to." She yelled back, wincing slightly. A tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't stay here; not when you're like this. I've tried to help you – I really have – but I'm hurting too. You're not the only one who lost him." She cried.

Water filled in Ron's already red eyes. "Where are you going to go?" He whispered, looking at his feet since he couldn't bring himself to see her.

Hermione wiped her eyes, hopelessly trying to rid herself of the tears. "I don't know," she answered, straightening her spine even though it hurt her, "but I don't want you to come looking for me; not until you've gotten help. I don't want to be hurt anymore."

He grabbed her upper arm tightly, but loosened his grip when he saw the expression of pain that crossed her face. " _Please_..." Ron choked out, "I can change – I can – but I need you here. I promise I won't do anything like that again. _Trust me_." He barely managed to whisper the last part.

"Ron, I love you," She began, "I do… but I also love myself. I can't keep doing this. I've forgiven you too many times, and this is the last straw. For Merlin's sake, Ron, you killed Crookshanks! You knew how much he meant to me." She extracted her wedding ring from her left hand, "I want you keep this; and when you're better – when you've finally gotten help – I want you to give it back to me." She said, placing the ring in his open hand and folded his fingers to cover it.

He looked down at his hand, the cool metal grazing his skin, and then his eyes met Hermione's. "Will you at least write me when you get there?" He asked; his voice softer than a whisper.

"Of course," She said, averting her eyes away from his. She walked around him, feeling her back ache as she did so, but showed no evidence of it. Hermione searched for her wand as Ron stood frozen.

Once she found it, she grabbed her bag, securing it on her shoulder. Hermione looked over at Ron, who was still in the same position as before. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided that it was best left unsaid.

Ron watched her as she disappeared into the nearby forest from the balcony.

* * *

"There you are." A voice called out.

Harry ran towards Hermione, who was noticeably trying to avoid him. Before she could try to excuse herself once again, Harry grabbed a hold of her wrist. He could feel her whole body tense up from the action, to his surprise, and he immediately let go.

"Mione, what's wrong?" He asked her, concern sweeping over his face.

She avoided looking him in the eye, "Nothing." She said hesitantly.

"Really?" Harry asked, unconvinced, "Then why was Ron at my house at five o'clock in the morning asking if you were there?" A pang hit Hermione's chest. "Hermione, why was Ron looking for you?"

Hermione avoided his question and started to walk to her office, not listening to his protests, but knowing that he was following her.

Once she was in her office, which was not that large, Harry closed the door behind them, ready to do whatever was needed to get the truth, but he was cut off when Hermione began speaking. "I didn't want to leave – believe me – if I had it my way, none of this would have ever happened, but he refuses to get help, and it's starting to get worse, Harry. He's scaring me. I know that I'm abandoning him when he probably needs me the most, but if you saw what he did – what he is capable of – you wouldn't stay either." She explained, her eyes filling with tears.

"What did he do, 'Mione?" Harry asked hesitantly, not knowing if he truly wanted to hear her answer.

Again, Hermione avoided eye contact. "It's not important." She averted his question, not wanting to relive last night herself.

He could see that she didn't want him to know, and maybe that was best for both of them. "Where did you stay last night?" He changed the subject.

"The Leaky Cauldron," she answered, moving away from Harry and towards her desk. She started to sort through the piles of paper work, hoping that harry might take the hint and leave her to do what she was being paid for.

But, then again, Harry was never really good at taking hints. "How are you doing?" He asked, pulling one of the spare chairs in front of her desk and sitting on it.

"I've already told you-"

"I'm not talking about what happened with Ron, I'm talking about what happened with… you know." His eyes became softer as he witnessed her battling with her emotions.

She tried to swallow the lump in throat, but it did not want to move. "I'm fine." Her voice cracked slightly, but she tried to hide it. Hermione began to move some of the folders into the filing cabinet, moving away from her desk in the process.

"Hermione, it's only been four months, you're still allowed to grieve."

She had enough. No one – not even her best friend – was going to tell her how she should deal with this. They had no idea what it felt like, so they shouldn't have any say in how she was going to behave. She dropped the stack of papers in her hands on the floor, and turned to face Harry. "What's grieving going to do? It's not going to bring him back, now is it? How do you suggest I do this, since you're such the expert?" She yelled at him, thankful that her office was sound proof so no one outside could hear her.

Harry was taken back, "'Mione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." He quickly said, feeling horrible.

Her features softened a bit. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself, "No, I'm sorry, Harry." She said, running her hand through her thick curls.

"Why don't you stay with me and Ginny tonight?" Harry proposed.

Hermione wiped the tears that she had been trying so hard not to let fall from her eyes. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it didn't seem to want to leave. "I don't think that's the best idea, Harry." She said softly, bending down to pick up the papers from the floor.

Harry rushed over to help her. "I know you don't want to tell me what's going on between you and Ron, and frankly, I don't know if I _want_ to know, but I'm not going to let you be alone. Ginny would kill me if she knew that I let you stay at the Leaky Cauldron during this time." He tried to make eye contact with her, but she continued to avert her gaze.

Hermione warily smiled at her friend's last comment, "The Leaky Cauldron isn't a bad place to stay…" She said, trying to counteract Harry's proposal.

"I know it isn't," Harry interjected, "but you need to be with family during this time – people who love you. After all you've been through in these past few months, I can't allow myself to let you be alone." She finally allowed herself to look into his eyes, and he could see that hers were watering slightly. "Just one night, that's all I'm asking." Harry pleaded.

Hermione averted her gaze once again, "What if Ron comes back tonight?" She asked him, chocking on her words slightly, but doing her best to hide it.

"I promise you that I won't let him in if you don't want me too." He whispered slightly, ignoring the tuft of hair that continued to fall in front of his eyes.

Hermione sat still for a few more moments, taking short, quick breaths to try and calm herself, but it wasn't helping. She could hear her heart beat in her ears, and feel it in her fingers. She nodded her head slowly, allowing her bangs to fall in front of her eyes, blocking Harry from seeing a tear fall down her cheek. "One night," she said, "that's all I'm promising."

A sad smile graced Harry's face. "That's all I'm asking." He said.


End file.
